


Mock Cherry

by Nasserwraith



Series: A Fool's Gold [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Emotional Sex, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Top Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:53:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26409796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nasserwraith/pseuds/Nasserwraith
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov have been slowly falling in love for months. Each practice, each day, bringing them closer together. But they can’t help but be unsure of one another, until one stolen kiss on the ice during a routine session spurs Yuuri to action. It’s time to tell Victor the truth. (Romance Erotica, Rated E for a reason).
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: A Fool's Gold [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937818
Comments: 6
Kudos: 224





	Mock Cherry

**Author's Note:**

> Granted, this is not my usual writing fandom, but I’ve had this vignette rattling around in my head since I watched YOI last year. So, I pandemic-binged it again and here we are. I hope you enjoy it! – Nas

**Mock Cherry**

The light from the paper lanterns outside cast shadows in the nighttime room. Ghostly and unquiet, objects strewn about were not clearly defined but their bulk, silhouetted against the moon-like shapes of the chōchin threw darker figures across the floor. These, along with crumpled clothing and books, created blocks in Yuuri’s navigation. But at last he reached the window, the only one in his room just over his bed, and peered through a frayed corner out onto the best view of Yu-Topia’s gardens he knew. Seen through the tiny peephole, the sharp branches of blooming cherry trees painted on the far walls softened into a blended glaze of pink and white. A patina of blue highlighted their delicate petals as penciled outlines before it then sketched out the walkway that led to the hot springs. In all, it had always looked to Yuuri like the entrance to an enchanted forest, or a hidden castle, or whatever his overactive childhood imagination had managed to come up with in the moment. But it was always a gateway of some kind. The threshold to something better forever just out of his reach.

Pressing his hand against the cool, waxy, panes, he leaned forward, and gradually came to rest his forehead on the window. His breath shallowed and he pinched his brow.

He had come to a juncture in his life, he realized. Though Yuuri might deceive himself into thinking that nothing had changed, it was obvious that something had. Long before Victor had showed up in Hasetsu, taking up residence in the unused banquet room of the onsen, his life had already belonged to him. How could he say that it did not? Victor played beneath his eyelids every time he closed his eyes and entered into his dreams when he tried to sleep. He was in every mirror, every shopfront he looked into, eyes shimmering with a promise and a challenge. And whenever Yuuri spoke with someone, even when he looked at someone he knew, Victor’s image and voice would dance before the reality, and Yuuri would suffer the gnawing pangs of unknowable longing.

He had tried – Oh, how he had tried! - to set it all aside. To gain a bit of perspective on his unrequited crush and remind himself that the Victor whom he kept secret and safe in his mind was not the Victor currently asleep on the other side of his bedroom wall. One was the icon of his imaginings, gleaned from posters and interviews and televised performances. The other was amiable but unpredictable, with his own way about him and so many quirks as to make him both aggravating and endearing. But Yuuri still couldn’t shake the feeling that, in the end, they were both Victor; and like the imitation cherry trees through the window, they had only continued to take root and bind his world together through seasons, changes, and time.

He grounded himself against the window again with his palms on either side of his head. What had brought him to a quiet place of contemplation this time, however, was not a defeat. As much as he tried to pretend, he could not deny what he was seeing. The changes in their training sessions had come slowly. An unexpected touch here or there, a strangely intense look shared after a routine, words that would never be spoken between simple acquaintances passing between them. At first, Yuuri had shrugged it off as friendliness; or moreover merely the expression of genuine warmth between coach and athlete. But then the two Victors began to merge: the one in his mind was now saying the same things as the one in the ice rink. The Victor in his fantasies held him in a way that was indistinguishable from the Victor waiting at the boards. The two-dimensional poster over his desk suddenly had a pulse.

And then today, it had all come crashing together. 

He'd fallen on the triple toe-loop. It might have been the subtle skip he’d felt at his heel or maybe he had just over-rotated the jump, but either way he hit the ice at nearly full speed, lost his balance, and went down. Normally, Victor would have scolded him on his poor form or for being distracted but the sight of a few droplets of blood from a split lip brought the older man down next to him almost immediately. 

What had happened after that was still a blur.

“Yuuri? Are you alright? What happened?”

“Nothing, Victor. I’m fine.”

Yuuri was struggling to get up, murmuring some sort of apology, fishing around for a bit of cloth or Kleenex to dab himself clean given how he remembered Victor sometimes reacted to blood. He was flailing a little; frustrated. But then the other man had grabbed him, his face pressed firmly between both of his hands, and then…he had kissed him. 

Right there. Just like that. He had pulled Yuuri’s injured bottom lip into his mouth and laved the offending cut with his tongue before momentarily delving a little further and tasting him more fully. It lasted just seconds, but when Victor pulled back, he was staring into the face of utter shock; Yuuri almost limp and completely pliant in his arms. He smiled and Yuuri had the vague sense that he was floating, or falling, or drifting away. Several more beats passed. Then, Yuuri nearly lunged; meaning to follow Victor’s retreat and claim him for a second kiss but Victor pushed smoothly away from him on mastered skates before Yuuri could chase him down.

“Not necessary, zolotse.” Was all he had said. 

And now it was all Yuuri could think about.

A light mist had settled over the garden and as the lanterns bobbed in the sea-breeze they continued to animate the pictures on Yuuri’s bedroom walls. Most of them of were of Victor of course, but like a child’s zoetrope, the dim illumination through the slots in the window caused everything to shudder at the edges of Yuuri’s vision and hauntingly come to life. Victor’s long hair flowed out around his face in one poster, his body seemed to twist and arch in the next. He was both mid-air in a jump and landing it in a perfect turn; the sequins on his costume glittering in the same patterns as he moved. Not so subtly, Yuuri began to bang his forehead on the wall. He felt stupid and befuddled and stressed and foolish and…

A dull noise from the other side of the wall caught his attention. Then a soft curse. It had to be Victor.

Some further rustling and a snide remark about the weather told Yuuri that his coach was not in the best of moods. He sounded melancholy; almost mournful. As if the soft, grey, touch of rain and the sea-salt cold had managed to seep directly into his bones rather than comfort him with its wistful chill. Yuuri listened to the sounds coming from the other room for awhile without moving, or even deeply breathing. A part of him was imagining Victor coming to his door to check in on him while another part was desperately wishing to hear the other man call out for him, even if he didn’t actually want anything; just to hear his voice. But Victor didn’t and soon enough he seemed to settle.

Yuuri paced around his bedroom floor. He cursed the anxiety tightening in his chest and the fluttering in his stomach. He cursed the prickling along his arms, the ache in his back, and the tingling memory of feather-touch kisses on his lips. How could his body betray him and leave him like this? How could Victor?

It was the last straw. Twisting what remained of his courage into a tether, Yuuri strode unconfidently out of his room and up to Victor’s door. He knocked twice and waited. Another painted cherry tree mocked him with scrabbling shadows through a rice-paper divide; turning gloom into ghosts and pillars into a thicket. But before he could turn on the offending images, the door opened. It was Victor standing before him. Somewhat confused, to be sure, but the glimmer of attentive curiosity equally unmistakable. 

“Yuuri.” He stated; more in the sense of an exclamation than a question.

“Victor.” Came the blank response. To be honest, he wasn’t so sure all of a sudden as to why he had marched out here like this. To say something to Victor? Who, rather uncharacteristically, was standing in the threshold of his room, in nothing but a robe, without uttering a further word; simply waiting for Yuuri to explain why he had come to him.

“Victor…I…” He was fumbling with his thoughts almost as badly as he’d fumbled the jump earlier. He tried again, failed to form coherent words, and got nothing else useful out. The other man had mercy and cut him off before too long.

“No, Yuuri.” He said quietly. “It’s alright. You don’t need to get upset. I apologize. During practice today…that was…I shouldn’t have done that. Forgive me.”

Katsuki Yuuri wasn’t exactly the worldliest of all people on the planet, and Heaven knew he’d spent a fair amount of his youth being surprised by everyday things, but nothing compared to the appalling mix of emotions he now felt. He stared at Victor, who remained standing in front of him with his head bowed and his expression…Yuuri’s breath nearly choked him…heartbroken. His mind immediately raced for an explanation. This wasn’t what he’d been thinking about at all! He’d actually come here with his own confession (of sorts)! Did Victor think he was angry? That he’d hated the kiss? That his uncoordinated, stumbling, response had been something other than desire? Perhaps, retaliation?

Unfortunately, what actually came out of him was just, “What?”

“That’s why you’re here, yes?” Victor continued, passive if contrite. “I’m due for a reprimand? Fair enough, I think. It’s just that…”

He didn’t get the chance to finish. Light and sound turned to a deluge and the hallway went spinning away from him. Browns and greys reeling like spilled paintbrush water pouring out of an overturned cup. As his feet went out from under him, Victor momentarily thought he’d been punched in the face and the air socked from his gut. But when he landed flat on his back onto the tatami mat behind him, he couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t a fist against his mouth, but the insistent press of exploring lips.

Yuuri. Yuuri was kissing him. Madly. Passionately. As if he meant to devour him before he had the chance to turn him away. And it was Victor’s instinct to counter him, but…something stopped him.

“Yuuri.” He breathlessly broke away from the hold on his mouth but did not attempt to push the smaller man off of him. “Yuuri, what are you doing?”

“I…isn’t it obvious?” Yuuri raised himself up on his arms to meet Victor’s tense gaze. “You caught me so off-guard earlier today I didn’t get to respond. Then you were gone…you just left…and I thought that I missed my chance to tell you…”

In an instant, so many things stopped to linger between them it was hard to discern what either was thinking. Neither having been truly sure of the other but everything falling into place at the pace of a slowly ticking clock. Victor was uncertain but hopeful and Yuuri appeared to be anything but indecisive. They had each now stolen their first kisses but awaited confirmation of a truth that was both evident and hazy.

“Chance to tell me what?”

Looking down at Victor beneath him, _feeling_ Victor beneath him, had Yuuri on edge. He was beautiful like this: silver-light hair a wild mess over one half of his face, eyes wide and reflecting the dim light in three shades of midnight blue. Perfect, smooth, skin already hot beneath his hands. Yuuri had half a mind to pin Victor’s wrists over his head and ravish his mouth for the rest of the evening if the other half of his mind would stop interfering with his plans. He blushed furiously but smiled down at Victor’s openly questioning face.

“Well…” He started. “To tell you that…I…. that I still can’t believe you’re here most of the time. That you’re really here, I mean. And…that…I know I’ve been denying it but…I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you.”

The last part was so softly spoken, Victor wasn’t completely convinced that he had heard it but he felt the shift of Yuuri’s body above him; from hesitant to sincere. It was a shift he’s seen many times, in Yuuri’s skating, in suppressing or expressing the _eros_ he embodied, but to feel it against him was something new entirely. Whenever he had tried to get Yuuri to break out of the shy demeanor he often adopted in public, Victor would provoke him, sometimes with benign aggression, but now it seemed as though Yuuri was demanding submission in reply to his own provocation.

With tame grace, Victor reached a hand up to Yuuri’s face and gently caressed his cheek. “Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu, Yuuri. No vy eto uzhe znayete.” **

Yuuri blinked and scowled. “I don’t understand.”

“You shouldn’t want me.” Was the nigh-inaudible whisper.

“But I do.” He was answered; an enthusiastic grin breaking across Yuuri’s cheeks. “I want you, Victor.” He was so emphatic it made the older man’s heart hurt to hear it. “I want you so much that’s-just-the-thing-I-can’t-even-explain…”

Yuuri tumbled over his words, his fingers reflexively clutching at Victor’s robe now beginning to fall open over his chest.

“I love you. Victor. I’ve always loved you. Even-when-you-know-it-didn’t-make-sense-  
or-anything-though-maybe-it’s-not-that-surprising…”

But met with silence and a terse lip, Yuuri’s face fell. “Did I…did I get this wrong?”

For all Victor knew, Yuuri’s pensive grip was the only thing keeping his head above water. Otherwise, he’d be drowning. Gasping for air as the young man above him consumed his breath with needy kisses or submerged him in the overwhelming sensations of heat and touch. But he came up on his own, pushing himself into a sitting position with the younger man cradled in his lap. He felt Yuuri pull back slightly as they met, nose to nose; brown eyes still downcast, frightened huffs of breath tickling his chin until Victor brought both of his hands up to rest atop Yuuri’s thighs.

“No, Yuuri. You’re not wrong.”

A minute could have been forever.

Without preamble, they came together in a single, fluid, motion, wrapping around each other as Victor pulled one knee up to balance his partner in the crook of his hips and Yuuri steadied himself by holding on to the other man’s shoulders. The kiss that followed was achingly sweet and deepened with each passing second; communicating the depth and breadth of needs that had gone unspoken for far too long. Yuuri’s heart leapt into his throat when he felt Victor break, breathe, and then return to him; his tongue sliding along Yuuri’s bottom lip as he asked for admittance. Gladly, he opened his mouth, allowing Victor to tease and coax him into a second kind of dance.

Sitting there, on the floor of Victor’s room, the rest of the sleeping household blissfully unaware just rooms away, Yuuri felt like he had finally taken the cherry tree path. That the threshold in his mind had, at last, given way to the reality behind his fevered imaginings. He was kissing Victor Nikiforov. Really kissing him! Not a dream, not the pictures taped to his walls (which he would never admit to), not a screen. Victor; who tasted like tea and rain and who felt like silk layered over stone; his strong back and legs supporting them both as Yuuri sought to dominate the kiss.

Yuuri was then vaguely aware of being lifted up and carried the short distance to the bed on the far side of the room. He could feel his feet leave the ground and Victor’s hands around his waist before he was pressed backwards into cool, cotton, sheets. A delicate breeze traveled up his shirt and he shivered, causing him to reach out again and pull Victor’s warmth fully on top of him.

Finally, they broke the kiss panting, riveted to each other’s eyes. Yuuri couldn’t help but softly moan Victor’s name as he took note of the hard arousal he could feel pressed to the underside of his thigh. In his gaze he saw lust and desire but something else flitting around the edges. Joy. Victor’s expression was filled with such joy. Yuuri traced a careful finger over his cheekbone and across the bridge of Victor’s nose.

“I love you.” He whispered the words breathlessly, doing his best to maintain their eye contact. But Yuuri’s eyes began to burn with hot, expected, tears; filling so quickly that streaks started spilling down his flushed cheeks. His heart felt like it was going to split apart with sheer happiness even if the rest of him was slowly sinking into sobs of mortification. It was an absolutely damnable place to be in his embarassing life. Victor, however, did not seem at all put off by the emotional outburst and brought one of his hands up to gently wipe the moisture from Yuuri’s cheek.

“Aishiteru, Yuuri.” He smiled. “Is that how you say it? Aishiteru?”

Yuuri nodded, still unable to get his voice to work in response.

“Good. Because I love you. I _love_ you.” The words finally left Victor’s mouth ringing with a truth he hadn’t appreciated before. He closed his eyes and said it again, forming the phrase into a little mantra, unable to repeat it enough times to completely feel its promise of salvation. “Since the very beginning, Yuuri.” He murmured against his lover’s mouth, kissing him softly every now and then. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

The tension eased slightly and Yuuri chuckled beneath him. “Not as long as I have.” He replied.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Victor asked. All this time, they had both been trapped in a tangle of thorned branches and fragile blossoms and neither had said a word no matter how many times they had been cut.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“Hn.” It was an ambiguous and yet strangely complete reply. But when Victor shifted to press his hips, and his obvious excitement, into Yuuri’s thigh again, he was more succinct. “And now what do you think?”

“Mmmm…I…I think…that I need you.” Yuuri arched so that he could both grind against Victor’s hips in return and ply his mouth with little, nipping, kisses. “Can we, Victor? Can we…be together tonight?”

It was Victor’s turn to laugh. “Are you asking me to make love to you, Yuuri?”

Yuuri’s response was pure sincerity. “Yeah.”

Victor came down everywhere around him. Kissing, biting, his hands prowling Yuuri’s body as he slipped exploring fingers beneath the hem of his night-shirt. Quickly, the kisses grew heated and sloppy but Yuuri was not yet satisfied with convincing himself that it was all still real. With unexpectedly brazen manners, he yanked open the ties of the robe that still held it clinging around Victor’s waist and pushed it from his shoulders. But before he had even registered that Victor was completely nude beneath it, Yuuri moaned and rocked his hips in a slow, wanton, sway; sliding his body up and down in a mimicry of what was wanted.

“Yuuri.” Victor groaned, moving his hands over the front of the smaller man’s shirt; plucking at the thin fabric impatiently. Blessedly, Yuuri took pity on him and crossed his arms to pull it over his head and fling it into a corner. It landed on the carved Classical bust nearby. But as he did, Victor was already placing butterfly kisses on every inch of newly exposed flesh, teasing at the gooseflesh that rose on Yuuri’s arms in response to the cool night air. Briefly, Yuuri was grateful for Victor’s overindulgent sense of bedding; with his preference for down comforters and thick pillows, everything around him and beneath him felt soft, plush, and warm. But Victor was _hot_.

Creamy, pale, skin poured over hard, tense, muscles. Like all dedicated figure skaters, he was slim and lithe with knots of strength along his spine, through his lower back, into his calves, and throughout a delightfully full and rounded backside. It was something that had always fascinated Yuuri about watching Victor move; he wore the ice like a second skin, he flowed like water over its surface, only to leap, to leave it and come back again as though they’d never been apart. Now, it was the same with Yuuri. The movements he felt over him were so sure, so adept, that he momentarily wondered if this was a ‘routine’ Victor had already been considering.

He was roused from his cloudy-eyed musings, however, when Victor began to slide his pants off of his hips and down his legs. Yuuri looked up to meet his lover’s gaze again. Victor was asking him for something.

Yuuri nodded.

Wavering shadows brushed down his bare legs, cooling him and tickling his skin. He dropped his head back as his fingers came to grip a few locks of hair on the top of Victor’s head. He couldn’t see the other man, beyond the silhouetted rise of his back, but he didn’t really need to. He felt Victor settle between his thighs and without hesitation, lave his tongue across his most heated flesh.

For a second, Yuuri thought he might do the most undignified thing in response and shout nonsensically. Victor knew what he was doing. _Oh God_ Victor knew what he was doing. He licked the underside of the painfully hard length presented to him and then buried his face in his beloved’s inner thigh. He rubbed his cheek against the velvety skin of Yuuri’s arousal, nuzzling in search of the right kind of attention. He then darted out the tip of his tongue to circle the head before plunging down to envelop him whole. Yuuri could do nothing to bite back the shuddering moans that wracked him but it only seemed to spur Victor onwards as he molded his mouth around him and began to bob his head; taking more of Yuuri into his throat with each descent.

Yuuri’s hands dove back into the thick mess of Victor’s hair, unconsciously digging his fingernails into his scalp as his lover brought waves of ecstasy to his body. Yuuri had had intimate encounters before but they were nothing like this. Simply nothing compared to the feeling of Victor Nikiforov pleasuring him; with his mouth, his hands, his thumb kneading into a strangely sensitive spot on Yuuri’s hip. Almost growling, Yuuri pitched his hips up slightly, wanting to thrust into Victor’s downstroke, but feeling that if he did it would be too much to hold off his climax. He could already feel it, starting in the pit of his stomach and traveling up his body to lock his arms and shoulders in a vice grip. But it was far too soon and there was so much he still wanted. So he breathed. He breathed in the way that Victor had taught him how in order to curb his over-extensions and control his jumps. He breathed through each turn, each swallow, so that he wouldn’t rush it and finish before it was time.

Victor pulled back and stared down at Yuuri’s prone form, eliciting a whine from his lover’s faltering concentration. 

“I want to be inside you.” He whispered. His tone hushed, as if conveying some dangerous confidence.

Honestly, he’d been hoping Victor would say something like that and Yuuri was all too happy to give his lover an enticing a look as he parted his thighs in offering. “Do…do you have anything?”

“I…oh…” Victor seemed momentarily perplexed before quickly rising up and pulling out the top drawer of his bedside table. Yuuri didn’t really see what it was he had retrieved but again, he didn’t really need to. There was a faint clack of something plastic, a light pop, and then Victor was looking up at him.

“Yuuri? Have you ever done this before?”

“I…well…sort of. I mean, not with another person. Not this specifically, that is. I’ve, umm, been _with_ someone before just not…uh, just not…”

It was unbelievably adorable and Victor smiled as Yuuri continued to try and explain his simultaneous history and complete lack of experience. From what Victor could gather, Yuuri had had sexual encounters before him but none that had resulted in what was imminent now. Everything Yuuri knew of this act, of physically joining two bodies together, had been learned alone. At least, that’s the what the babbling seemed to indicate. He stopped his lover with a gentle hand to his chest.

“Do you want this?” Victor continued his query with tenderness.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Victor. Please.”

“Tell me what you want, Yuuri.”

“You. I want you. I want to know what you feel like inside me. I want to know how it feels when you’re on top of me. I want to see you, Victor.”

“Want to see me what?”

“…. fall apart. Because of me.”

Yuuri gasped as Victor leaned forward and licked the sensitive area behind his ear, his arousal throbbing as probing fingers found his entrance and began to wet him. Victor was being so careful, so cautious, it made the tightness in his chest even worse. He hadn’t even gotten a full view of his lover naked yet, or really seen his arousal, but Yuuri got the sense that he was about to feel it. He thought he should maybe reach for him, touch him or stroke him, but the idea was prematurely cut off when one of Victor’s fingers breached him.

“Relax, Yuuri. Just breathe. I already know you remember how.”

Yuuri was on a precipice. But it was a place he had been to before. He could see the ice; the glare of the arena lights reflecting back at him. He could feel the cold air rushing past him as he turned his back and picked up speed on his practice skates. He could sense the position of his body as he prepared to jump, lifting his weight along the back edge of his skate for a Salchow or a loop. He twisted, rotated his hips, and prepared for the turn. Then, suddenly, he was taking off; for the moment free of gravity and spinning in the air. He rolled and dropped, but he was not alone. Victor was there, right there next to him, supporting his return as they spun back to the ground together. 

But this time, when he fell, it was because he wanted to. And he had every intention of taking Victor down with him.

The cry that echoed out into the gardens made the painted trees and paper lanterns shiver. Yuuri arched violently, clawing deep lines into Victor’s shoulders as he was covered and taken. He could feel every inch of the impossibly hard length that pushed past the tight ring at the entrance to his body; breaking him open and burning in its path. He felt tears again spring into his eyes but he forced them back by biting down hard onto his lower lip. His nails dug bruises into Victor’s back, marking him with the same dappled crescents that peered through the window and into the room from the walkway outside.

He could feel Victor pressing insistently forward, stretching and opening him. Then, he thrust. Deeply. Yuuri sobbed through the sounds that erupted from his throat. He was so overwhelmed he could barely form thoughts; words, colors, memories, dreams all simply vibrating together into one drawn out, unending, harmony. Like the ringing of temple bells, the vibrations spread down from his head and into the rest of his body as he trembled against the man above him. He only became aware of himself again when loving kisses wicked away the droplets at the corners of his eyes and a compassionate hand slid beneath his back to raise his hips.

Yuuri forced his eyes open and sucked in a small gasp as he realized that Victor was intently watching him; his apologetic Prussian blue eyes narrowed with concern and worry. He managed a faint smile though, mouthing ‘Aishiteru’ to his lover as he carefully squeezed Victor’s hips between his thighs. For his part, Victor allowed himself to be pulled back down and into a devastating kiss. When Yuuri then turned his head to come up for air, he began rocking his hips in tentative circles; giving the smaller man as much time to adjust as he needed. He withdrew, and then returned to him slowly, letting Yuuri feel everything without the distraction of further questions.

But Yuuri was nearly beside himself. He moaned, wrapping his arms tightly around Victor’s neck as he tried to pull him even closer; encouraging him to continue moving until they found the perfect rhythm. It came when Victor finally complied with Yuuri’s motions and lay down onto him, using the freedom of resting on his partner’s strong chest to put one hand against his cheek and the other behind his shoulder, and then to undulate his hips in the steady, unhurried, cadence that had Yuuri chanting his name into his ear. The arms around Victor’s neck then went to his shoulders as Yuuri held him in an impassioned embrace, pressing his face into Victor’s neck as they surged together. 

The position they were in also brought Victor’s mouth next to Yuuri’s ear and, for a moment, Victor held the belief that they were there just so he could murmur clandestine secrets to his lover.

“You feel…so good…Yuuri…I’ve dreamed of you…like this…I’ve wanted you.” And then. “I don’t deserve you…”

Yuuri didn’t reply, lost in the sensations of being filled; of having Victor completely and without reservation. His thrusts were so strangely elegant; the grace of his training translating to a deliciously exquisite movement that had Yuuri marveling at how mindless and euphoric it made him. Now, the tension and the heat only brought more pleasure each time Victor reseated himself and with a subtle press to his hip, Yuuri begged him to up the pace.

“Victor, harder.”

Victor shook his head. “Not too hard. Not this time.”

Yuuri wasn’t sure he understood what Victor meant or why, but he did note the change when Victor may not have increased his speed but he was definitely putting more of his considerable strength into his thrusts. Yuuri’s eyes went impossibly wide as a jolt of pleasure rushed through him, sizzling through his veins and almost untying his voice. He turned to Victor, whose head was bowed as he moved and pleaded with him for more of that pleasure.

“Do…do that again…VICTOR!”

Something inside of him ignited and Yuuri very nearly wailed with desperation as another intense thrust sent him arching upwards and into an uncontrolled spiral. He had never imagined sex could feel like this. Hot. Hard. Fast. Needy. Yes. All of that and more. But whatever it was that Victor was doing to him now just didn’t seem fair. He moved, he thrust, again and again with such raw power that Yuuri thought he might lose consciousness from the cresting waves that knocked the breath from his lungs and battered him at the shore. His grip on Victor’s back had to have been painful but when, at last, Yuuri heard Victor loose an urgent moan, he knew he was finished.

Yuuri met him with a series of hard thrusts of his own, dragging them both into new heights as Victor reared back with a cry. When his gaze returned it was feral, and it was that look alone that brought Yuuri to the realization that the next wave he rode would be his last. His climax wouldn’t be put off any longer but he wanted to see Victor. Wanted to seem him shatter. To lose that calm, cool, genial exterior and bleed for him.

He reached down and gripped his own erection in his hand, stroking himself in time with Victor’s deep thrusts. He then bore down and tightened every part of his body. Yuuri watched, entranced, as his lover curled forward and sobbed out an incoherent mix of petitions, prayers, and supplication. 

“Yuuri, please…. please don’t let go…of…please, God…I…I can’t…I’m…”

It was blinding and, burning in that holy light, Victor screamed.

The taut muscles of Yuuri’s body clamped down around his length, drawing every bit of his essence out him in beat after beat of two frantic hearts. But there he found his release and filled his lover with agonizing pulses that left him wrung out and completely spent. It conquered him, and Victor was vaguely aware the he must be gasping and heaving as he cried out his surrender. But before he could collapse into nothingness, he felt Yuuri shudder once, and then again, pulling him further in with his heels against the back of Victor’s thighs. He brought his head back up just in time to watch his beloved join in him bliss.

Yuuri could feel the hot seed spill into his body, along with the pulsing erection that seemed to flutter inside of him with each reflexive thrust Victor gave while in the grips of his own orgasm. He thrashed, unable to contain himself, and finally, cradled safe in Victor’s arms, he came. 

He floated, for a time, in an ethereal realm of falling petals and snow. The cherry trees in their paper prisons outside gradually returned to the stagnant embankments of the flagstones and bamboo fences. The impenetrable darkness of deep night encroached to cloak the room in a glittering shroud of mist from wayward clouds cast off in a distant typhoon; where even the garish neon numbers of the alarm clock on the nightstand faded into the same background as the light from the lanterns outside. He could hear Victor’s heart though, from where he was snuggled up against his chest as they came back to their own sacred place in the real world together. The household would be awake in a few hours but until then, there was no one and nothing else in the universe but he and Victor and a pile of bed-warm blankets. There, he would sleep; kept out of reach from all nightmares by the protective divinities that surrounded him. 

But one thing gave Yuuri pause. He laid his head against Victor’s collar bone as he moved off to his side and contemplated his words from earlier.

“Victor? Why did you say that…I shouldn’t want you? What did you mean?”

“Don’t worry about it, zolotse. Stories for another day.”

“Victor?”

“Yes, Yuuri?”

“Will you stay with me? Like this?”

He felt the smile on Victor’s lips; rounded and affectionate. “I certainly hope so.”

“Forever?”

“Forever’s a long time.”

“And not long enough.”

“No, my love. Not long enough.”

**NOTES:**

** “I love you too, Yuuri. But you already know that.”


End file.
